


Gift

by dettsu



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Chris deserves happiness, Chris is actually the innocent shota trope deep inside, Chris's boyfriend has no canon name so I didn't gave him one either, M/M, Post-Grand Prix Final, also they've been in a relationship for a really really long time yeah I love them okay, little boy running in the Swiss meadows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 00:19:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9211526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dettsu/pseuds/dettsu
Summary: [ After Episode 12 drabble ] Because while most people think Christophe’s appeal comes from his bedroom eyes and overall sexual allure, his secret side was what actually got them together. “To me, you’re still that little boy playing in the Swiss meadows when I first saw you.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT 2017/01/06: I have been informed that Chris does not compete in Four Continents, but in Europeans. So it has been corrected! Thank you for all the wonderful comments!!! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ
> 
> I couldn't find fics of them so I had to put matters into my own hands lmao. But also I drew the image before I wrote this! http://dettsu.tumblr.com/post/155405924165/nothing-could-ever-make-me-love-you-less

The room was bare and dark, two beds pushed together for more space to move. The only light was the dim glow of the moon passing through the sides of the curtains. Huffing and shifting, quick short breaths, long drawn out groans, muffled moans, and finally, a breath of relief. The slow release of tension let the sheets droop to the edges. Spread legs inched closer and knees bent to lay torso upon torso. Exhaustion dripped into trails of sweat as the heaving of chests slowed to a calm rhythm. Their heartbeats echoed against the thick walls of the tiny suite.

“ _Mon amour?_ ”

Christophe pushed his weight off of the source of the voice and reached for the side table: a red crown of large roses, given to him after his free skate performance. He placed the roses on his lover’s head, brushing his fingers on the petals, then his lover’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” his whisper barely audible but not unheard. His lips were so used to sending off flying kisses that he found it uncomfortable to frown. But he could not hold it all in after all. His eyes shut from the overbearing emotion as tears streamed down his cheeks, hands shaking on the face of his lover. But his lover knew, and his lover smiled. It was that genuine, consoling, warm smile that only appears every after Grand Prix. Christophe couldn’t see it, but he knew it was there. It was the only other constant thing other than his losses at this time of the skating season.

But there were other things that remained along with that smile. His lover leaned his face on Christophe’s hand and kissed it, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles. “There is nothing to be sorry for.” He has always been straightforward, and Christophe usually prefers that he stay that way. But when it’s difficult to face the truth, it becomes frustrating to deal with. Especially at times like this.

“I lost. Isn’t that something to be sorry for?” He looked away, towards the blurred scenery at the window. “Every year, every season, I never won gold for the final. And this season, Victor did not participate. It was my chance to finally get gold.” The curtains swayed to the light breeze of the air conditioning and the moonlight danced on their skin. “It was probably my last chance, too. I might as well retire—”

“ _Christophe_.”

His voice was as firm as his grip on Christophe’s arm when he pulled him back to his chest. “Stop that trail of thought.” Their gazes met as Chris’s tears once again glossed over his eyes. “Please don’t think that way. There’s still Europeans, and Worlds. The season isn’t over.” Chris could have easily whined all night like how they always fought over things, even after a satisfying fuck. But before he could, his lips were stolen from him and they shared another kiss. His lover, mellow as he is, can be tough and assertive when the situation calls for it. And whenever Chris was in a bind, he would be the rock that grounded him. Whenever Chris lost faith in himself, he would be there to bring it back.

Chris closed his eyes and just let himself drown in all of his remorse and discouragement. His lover broke the kiss, and Chris just buried his face into his lover’s chest. As much as he wanted to prolong the fight into the morning (he easily could have), he was tired and his heart was heavy from guilt. He did not train to lose.

“You don’t deserve someone who always loses.” He plopped onto his lover as there was no more strength left in his arms. “I could have won gold this season. It would have been the perfect anniversary gift. Not fifth place. I didn’t even get on the podium.”

“I’d say ‘it doesn’t matter,’ but it actually does, doesn’t it?”

“It matters _a lot_.”

“But not as an anniversary gift.”

“I thought you would love me less if I didn’t win…”

“You’re the only gift that matters to me, _mon amour._ Please have a little more faith in yourself.”

Christophe pouted, “You just like seeing me cry.” His lover chuckled, “I find it cute when you cry.” Because while most people think Christophe’s appeal comes from his bedroom eyes and overall sexual allure, his secret side was what actually got them together.

“To me, you’re still that little boy playing in the Swiss meadows when I first saw you.”

His lover hugged him tight and rubbed his back as he broke town in tears. It had been a stressful week, but whispering I love you’s to each other will always be the best remedy after competitions.

“Nothing could ever make me love you less.”


End file.
